


Sanctuary

by DeCarabas



Category: Dragon Age: Blood Mage no Seisen | Dragon Age: Dawn of the Seeker, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, Gen, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 05:57:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5486201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeCarabas/pseuds/DeCarabas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avexis in the Circle, growing up and finding a home again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LeaperSonata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeaperSonata/gifts).



Avexis used to dream of running off to find the Dalish when she was a little girl; fantasies of wandering the Dales with herds of halla, a crown of flowers on her head and a whole clan of legendary elven warriors at her side, lifting her up out of the alienage.

Minaeve paints a much less pretty picture of how such a life might have gone. But Avexis still listens to the lilt in Minaeve’s voice with a quiet admiration, and she can’t quite shake those old childhood daydreams, the old alienage stories full of Dalish warriors and Dalish magic swooping in to save them all.

Though she doesn’t dream of running away these days. There’s always talk of that in the Circle, in all the Circles—and she’s seen more than her share of different Circles, transferred from one tower to another. The templars can’t seem to make up their minds where she’d be safest, under the watchful eye of their best people and the Right Hand of the Divine herself, or as far from Val Royeaux as possible. But no matter where she is, running is the last thing on her mind.

She still writes to Cassandra, and to Galyan too, so she has their words with her no matter where she goes. And though the other apprentices complain about templars confiscating their mail, Avexis has never seen any sign of that herself. She doubts any templar would be willing to risk the wrath of the Right Hand. Her mail is delivered without fail, and she curls up on her bunk eagerly to read, a mouse or two watching her curiously.

“Ugh,” Jowan says, when she’s transferred to Kinloch Hold. “Can’t you do something nicer than mice?”

She could, if she was outside, but outdoor activities have been banned at Kinloch Hold since before she arrived, ever since some mad apprentice tried to swim across the lake.

She’s seen that apprentice around and she’s heard the other apprentices talk of his escape attempts, half laughing and half admiring. She can’t imagine what he’s looking for outside that would be worth giving up the safety of the Circle. Really, if _she_ can be happy indoors, cut off from the birds and all the other creatures she used to talk to, then anybody can.

Though there’s lots of little animal lives inside the towers too, if you bother to look. And she rather likes the mice.

“They’ll make you a full mage any day now,” Jowan says, watching the mice scurry away when she waves a hand.

They won’t, though. She’s going to be an apprentice forever, same as Minaeve—though in Avexis’s case it will be because she’s got too much power instead of too little. She's waited for her Harrowing with her heart in her throat, and waited, and waited, and she's watched one apprentice disappear after another, until finally she’s begun to suspect that her Harrowing is never going to come. No one’s going to force the Right Hand’s favorite to become Tranquil, but they'd still like to leave the option hanging there. Just in case.

Jowan laughs at this idea. “Come on, the templars don’t really do that… do they?”

He stops laughing after a while. And then he asks her about the blood magic, just like everyone else does, sooner or later, if they talk to her at all. The fact that she was the one _controlled by_ the blood magic, not the one _controlling_ it, seems to make little difference in most people’s minds. They just remember the blood and the Divine, like something out of a tale.

Minaeve never asks her about the blood, just about the dragons, all wide-eyed curiosity. It’s nice. It’s relaxing, the way she talks—happily settled into the safety and security of the Circle, just as grateful for that sanctuary as Avexis is, an unspoken understanding between them; and still full of wonder for all the animals out there in the wilderness that might answer to Avexis’s call.

 _You’d like her_ , Avexis writes to Galyan.

They sit curled up in a corner of the library, fingers tangling together as they read about the creatures outside the tower walls.

And Minaeve is so kind to the Tranquil, genuinely kind, without the pity or horror in so many apprentices’ eyes, and that’s a comforting thought whenever Avexis watches someone else disappear for their Harrowing, wondering if her own will ever come. Though she doesn’t say anything about that to Minaeve. And Cassandra’s letters assure Avexis that she has nothing to worry about. Even so, it’s nice to know that if the worst did happen, Minaeve would still be kind.

And it’s _not_ the worst thing that could happen, really, as she’s reminded every time she’s transferred to a new tower and has to deal with everything all over again, the way people look at her, the whispers—yes, she’s _that_ Avexis, the one with the blood and the dragons and the Divine, still alive, still not Tranquil, still with all that power inside her—and every time she has to hear the fraternities arguing. There’s always somebody talking about tearing down the walls that keep them all safe, talking about revolution, about war, until it starts to sound more and more inevitable, and all she can think is that they’ll all end up hiding in the woods, with black robes and blades and blood magic.

 _It won’t come to that,_ Galyan promises her when he writes. And there are more Aequitarians than any other faction, working towards peace between the fraternities, so maybe he’s right.

“It’s just bluster,” Minaeve declares. “They’re just showing off, jockeying for position.” Which is something neither of them will ever have to worry about, since it’s looking increasingly certain that they’ll both be apprentices for the rest of their lives.

And that might not be so bad at all. She and Minaeve could spend their days working under the direction of a senior enchanter in creature research, talking to dragons under safely monitored conditions, and quietly ignoring the drama of fraternity politics. A life filled with good work, the comfort and warmth of the library, and Minaeve’s lilting voice by her side.

Avexis watches Minaeve get lost in a book, the candlelight in the apprentices' dorms casting shadows over her profile; watches her absently tuck her short hair back behind her ear when it falls forward into her eyes; and Avexis smiles and hides her face behind the pages of her own book.

For all the anger in the fraternities, for all the talk of Harrowings and Tranquility, for all the changes in the world outside the walls, this room still feels like a promise of safety and home.


End file.
